Welcome to the Lab
by Asheanex
Summary: Welcome to the Laboratory.   The experimentation's in this facility are under no supervision, and no rights, rules and regulations are required.Thank you for visiting, and we hope you enjoy the facilities.  The Laboratory.
1. Welcome to the Labratory

Welcome to the Lab.

Here we will be using Subject 2 and Subject 16 to conduct our experiments.

Subject 2 – Mycroft Holmes | M | CLASSIFIED |

Subject 16 – Gregory Lestrade | M | Detective Inspector |

The experimentations in this facility are under no supervision, and no rights, rules and

Regulations are required.

Thank you for visiting, and we hope you enjoy the facilities.

The Laboratory.

This is a set of 'One-shots' using the Sherlock Characters M. Holmes and DI G. Lestrade. The one shots will be OOC, in character and many other variations. E.G. Vampires, snails and demons.

( In short, a load a one shots with random stuff and that thrown in!)


	2. Experiment 1

| Experimentation 1 |

| Records |

| Independent variable – Notes |

| Dependent variable – Subject 2 attraction to Subject 16, vice versa |

| Control(s) – Mycroft Holmes, Gregory Lestrade, Umbrella, Coffee |

| Hypothesis – Mycroft has a surprise when it rains. |

Contrary to popular belief, Mycroft Holmes did in fact use his umbrella for its initial purpose. When raining and unable to avoid the downpour of said water, he would swipe the black mixture of strong cloth and wire into the air with a brutal force, and then open it as if caressing a lover. It would be then raised above his head and the whole world would slow to a steady crawl, as he took his time admiring the rain bounce merrily from his shelter and onto the ground beneath him. Of course, this was all speculation- no one had seen Mycroft open his umbrella, even his personal assistant, who had a habit of marking all of his available moves for him. So, the whole world waited with baited breath as the eldest Holms removed the weight from his umbrella, as the first few drops of a potential down pour revealed itself from the sky. Like the myth, a somewhat thrilling tale despite its normally average content, he did indeed swing the umbrella above his head, the somewhat innocent spheres of liquid shattered on their descent by the waterproof material. He then pulled it open with a gentle touch, a touch only one would be able to see when he was in private, the world taken off of his shoulders and the only expectation of him is to make sure that he embraces his lover with the compassion they both shared. Unfortunately, the prophet who had dictated the sure and rather elegant movements of the eldest Holmes opening his umbrella was unaware of another very important man Mycroft's life – so the innocent piece of paper which was tied to the thin structure of the umbrella, dangling in front of the male's nose was a revelation. Mycroft, pulling the umbrella over his head to ensure his rusted copper hair was to remain in its perfect style, removed a pale hand from the curled and wooden handle and grasped the small piece of levitating paper in between two thin fingers. Looking at the familiar, slightly jagged but never the less beautiful handwriting, Mycroft felt the corners of his mouth pull up in a smile. Not the smile of fake friendship reserved for politicians or sneering at people who were blatantly arrogant and were put into their normally unimportant place , but one of personal happiness, a smile rather unfamiliar on his rather daunting features, but never the less, a smile the seemed to matter to one who cared for another. He gently removed the string from the web of metal above him, and placed the scrap of affection in his long travelling coat pocket.

I Love you ~

...

In the Homicide department of New Scotland Yard, the familiar air of tiredness and annoyed authority leaking from under the glass door towards his subordinates. Inside, Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade was sat at his desk, surrounded by paperwork and loneliness. He sighed, and leaned back in the chair – originally bought by Donovan to stop his back from aching, yet only seemed to infuriate his spine more – and grumbled. It was cold, 0200 on his day off, and the paperwork had not diminished. In fact, thought Lestrade, it had increased tenfold in the past four hours. His clothes were a little dishevelled, as they would be sitting in a cold office for hours on end. After staring silently at the paperwork for about ten minuets, he stood up with a sudden flourish and walked to the large windows, cracking his back in the process. His warm breath fogged the window, of which was leering into the londonian night. A sudden knock on the door broke his revere, and he turned to see Donovan with a coffee. He smiled gratefully, and sat down as she put the coffee on his desk (the domestic underneath not getting a second look) and returned the smile, before leaving. As she closed the door, she threw a new expression over her suited shoulder – one of compassion... and slight envy. After watching the woman leave, he took a sip... and was annoyed to find the opening closed off. He popped the cap off, about to complain, until he saw the tiny laminated card over the hole, with the ever familiar elegant and slanted green penmanship written under the plastic cover. The smile that followed seemed to light up the whole office.

I Love you too ~

Experiment Complete

Notations on results:

Hey guys! Thanks for reading the first experiment! This is really all they are going to be – short one shots with Mystrade and occasional side pairings. Anyway, I'm going to put my lab coat in the wash and have a nap, before starting the next one!

See you then!

~ Asheanex


	3. Experiment 2

| Experimentation 2 |

| Stars |

| Independent variable –Night time picnic |

| Dependent variable – Subject 2 attraction to Subject 16, vice versa |

| Control(s) – Mycroft Holmes, Gregory Lestrade, stories, stars. |

| Hypothesis – Greg really shouldn't worry about Mycroft so much. |

"Mycroft!" yelled Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade, sprinting through his partners flat. The detective had received a text from his lover's phone, saying that he was needed at the flat. There are three things that the infamous Mycroft Holmes never does. One, he never starts a fight unless he has to – it was both too much hassle to duck and dive with someone throwing their weight around and it wasn't polite. Two, he would never tell anyone why he would carry that damn umbrella around with him constantly. And three, he never texted unless he was in a dire predicament. So, this started a chain of events that had Lestrade running from his office (ignoring the murder rapper case that had been stumping the Yard for over a fortnight, in turn Gregory losing a lot of sleep over it) in the middle of the night shift (2349) – waking many a sleeping officer in the process, practically barrelling into his car and driving as close as a hairs length to the limit.

The kitchen, front room and bedroom were empty, and this only caused a deeper surge of panic to propel itself through Lestrade's deep breathing chest. He ran a calloused hand through his salt-and-peppered hair – the first sign of dire desperation.

"Gregory?"

Said man span and saw his lover, standing confused in the door way from the hall way to the bedroom.

"Oh, thank God. Mycroft, what's wrong?" he said, jumping forward and hugging him.

"Nothing – are you alright, Gregory?" said Mycroft, removing himself from his arms and gripping his forearms in a comforting gesture, looking into the brown eyes he enjoyed so much.

"Yeah, I'm fine… but you texted me."

"Yes… was I interrupting something important?" he replied, both knowing full well he wasn't – the case was a real cold one.

"No, but _you texted me_." The DI said, stressing the last three words in an attempt to make Mycroft see how strange that was. Mycroft nodded.

"Yes, I had my hands full." He said simply. Now that he looked at him, Greg realised that Mycroft was not wearing his usual suit, but a plain light blue button up shirt and a pair of black chinos.

"What – What were you doing?" the confused expression leaving Mycroft's face for a rare smile. He grabbed the inspectors hand and promptly dragged him from the bedroom, through the hall, into the flat stairwell and up a set of dingy stairs, until they arrived at an emergency exit door. At this, the DI was well and truly stumped, and the fact his boyfriend was doing nothing to help him understand wasn't helping.

'This better be good – I should still be at the yard' he thought.

Seeing that Greg was a little (Read: completely and utterly) confused, Mycroft grasped the long grey bar, and pushed the door outwards.

Underneath a clear night sky, a picnic blanket was led, a picnic basket sat next to it.

The two males slowly walked out onto the roof (Mycroft ensuring the brick he used earlier to prop the door open was again by said door) and stood next to the blanket.

"What's all this for?" said Greg, stunned.

"Well… you have been working hard recently – not that you don't always work hard, but you seemed a little more... perplexed at this certain case (Greg knew full well that his partner knew everything he did, probably more), and you haven't been sleeping enough, so you need a break." Said the eldest Holmes, obviously gaging Gregory for his reaction.

Slowly, a small smile appeared on Greg's face. Ten seconds later, the boyish face was spread into one of the largest grins Mycroft had seen since that one time he showed Greg a recording of Sherlock's first ice skating lesson (dark curls, shoes and flailing arms all over the screen).

"God, you are one of the, no, scratch that, THE best person in the world."

Mycroft's cheeks, blame it on the cold air of the night, went a little pink at the declaration, and hugged the detective.

"Well, come on then, help me with the food!" said the smiling male, quickly jumping over the basket and sitting on the dark red blanket. Mycroft chuckled quietly and sat down next to him, happy that his (yes, Mycroft did enjoy putting that simple one syllable in front of his lovers name) Gregory was able to relax a little. They chatted and ate, until they somehow ended up lying on their backs, looking at the night stars.

"They are beautiful."

Gregory turned to look at Mycroft, who was lying in subdued awe if the glittering stars above them.

"To think, that a star is a massive, luminous sphere of plasma held together by gravity. That something that... interesting could be above our heads each and every day, and yet we as a race don't do as much as lying on a roof to look at them."

"Tell me about them. Tell me about the stars."

Mycroft looked at his lover with a small smile, before pulling one of his arms around him and holding the inspector to his chest, and the other arm began to dance and motion above their heads.

"Historically, stars have been important to civilizations throughout the world. They have been part of religious practices and used for celestial navigation and orientation. Many ancient astronomers believed that stars were permanently affixed to a heavenly sphere, and that they were immutable. By convention, astronomers grouped stars into constellations and used them to track the motions of the planets and the inferred position of the Sun..."

As Mycroft continued to talk about the history of a collapsing cloud in space, Gregory sighed and listened to the eldest Holmes's heart beat.

'Yep, better than good.'

Experiment Complete

Notations on results:

Oh my gosh! I am so sorry for not updating sooner! Yes, I have no excuse apart from the fact I am bone idle.

Anyway, yet another shameless fluff – I warn you, this is all I seem to be able to write at the moment. So, I hope you enjoyed it... The term hope used very strongly, and I'll see you next time!

Asheanex~

P.s. If you have any prompts or such you think would like me to write about, feel free to leave it in a review, or a message!


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